


these gilded tears

by elysiantree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: :D, And Most Other People, Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Is Of Unspecified Ethnicity, Its nice, Lavender Brown Never Fucking Died, Marriage Law Fic, Multi, No beta we die like Cedric Diggory, and in a series so centered around home, but yknow what, hey i actually kinda like the epilogue now, marriage law, so is Harry, stuff i guess, they all have homes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28957749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiantree/pseuds/elysiantree
Summary: They got their letters in mid-July, the same time hundreds of children around the world were being notified of their acceptance into Hogwarts. Every member of the family over seventeen was gathered into the Burrow’s kitchen. Molly did the dishes morosely in the background.“They can’t do this,” Ginny burst out, breaking the grim silence. “Surely it’s - illegal, or something.”Arthur looked up at her. “Ginny, what you don’t seem to understand is that the Ministry can do anything they want.”*The Harry Potter franchise does not belong to me. It belongs to Rupert Grint, obviously.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 28
Kudos: 36





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> (:

Hermione Jean Granger rather disliked nicknames. She thought they were stupid; if you had been given a name why not keep it? It certainly saved you the trouble of coming up with something else. Only one boy had ever had a crush on her, as far as she knew, a Muggle boy named Thomas Parker, over the summer between third and fourth years, and he managed to get the idea into his head that it would be cute to call her something besides her given name. As soon as the word 'Mione' left his mouth he was regarded with a chilly stare and any chance he had with her was immediately gone.

Hermione Jean Granger was named after her paternal grandmother, a first-generation immigrant from Greece who was sprightly and athletic even into her eighties. Hermione's father's name was David. Her mother's name was Jean. They were both dentists.

Hermione Jean Granger liked her name. It reminded her of summers at her grandparents' house, of musty books, of her grandfather and his lingering scent of tobacco and peppermint, of her grandmother's thick accent and wrinkled smile that always made it seem as if she was telling you her deepest secrets.

Hermione Jean Granger was sometimes called 'Bucktoothed Beaver' in primary school, sometimes 'bush-head'. Later she was sometimes called 'mudblood'.

Hermione Jean Granger had a boyfriend once, who made her feel like she was the world, who she kissed in the middle of a war with an armful of basilisk fangs, who was smarter than anyone she knew but thought so little of himself that he was prone to jealousy, who didn't hate her for her pettiness but instead helped her resolve it, whose name was Ron Weasley, never Ronald, and would punch you if you called him that, who she left alone in some vindictive act of cowardice.

Yes, Hermione Jean Granger rather disliked nicknames.

*

Ron Weasley didn't think very much of himself. On good days he wasn't hideous, he supposed, and maybe if he kept his mouth shut he could be mistaken for an intelligent human being. He worked as an Auror, and was convinced that whoever hired him lost their glasses that day.

Ron Weasley's full name was Ronald Bilius, which he felt was quite embarrassing, and from the age of four he went strictly by Ron.

Ron Weasley tried hard not to be ashamed of his surname, but a name known for either how poor its users were or as the name of blood traitors was hard to shake off. He was met with alternating glances of pity and hatred whenever he introduced himself.

Ron Weasley had five older brothers, Bill-Charlie-Percy-Fred-George, and a father with a job in the Ministry, and a mother who used to be a Prewett, and a sister that was a professional Quidditch player. He wasn't Ron, he was Charlie Weasley's younger brother.

Ron Weasley had a girlfriend once, who made him feel like he mattered, who kissed him in the middle of a war because he remembered the house elves, who he thought was a genius, who told him he was smart, who left and it all came falling down.

No, Ron Weasley didn't think very much of himself.

*

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry, Weasley, could you repeat that?"

Percy, whom his family was proud to admit had really shrunk his head in the past years, but was still working at the Ministry, cleared his throat. "We at the Parliament of the Ministry of Magic would like to bring to your (the most highly esteemed Minister) attention a serious lapse in the magical population of Great Britain..."

"I know that part, Weasley, get on with it."

Percy scanned the parchment. "...therefore," he read aloud, "we should like to propose a reintroduction of the Involuntary Law of Matrimony, originally established 1239 A.D. This entails..."

Shacklebolt waved his hand to silence him. After a few terse seconds he sat upright and beckoned for the parchment. When it was handed to him he set it down on his desk and glared at it.

"If it helps, sir," Percy began, then cut himself off.

Shacklebolt glanced over at him in acknowledgement, gesturing for him to continue.

"If it helps, I think - I think it's an absolutely terrible idea!" Shacklebolt wasn't silencing him, and so his courage was bolstered. "Inhumane - practically locking up the entire child-bearing population of magical Great Britain - people'll run away - domestic abuse levels will skyrocket - couples will resent each other - their _children_ \- "

"I am all too aware," Shacklebolt said, almost sadly, and he picked up the parchment. "But listen to these figures - hem, twenty-eight percent of magic-possessing folk dead or otherwise left unable to care for themselves, thirty-four percent not even counting the dead either already imprisoned or awaiting trial with almost certain chance of death penalty and-slash-or lifetime imprisonment. That's, what, sixty-two percent of our population gone, just like that? Now, let me ask you, Weasley - " and he rounded on Percy, a strange, almost resigned look on his face - "what else could we do?"

Percy, for once in his life, couldn't think of anything to say.

"And furthermore," Shacklebolt went on, "please consider that I have tried everything I can possibly think of to fix this population problem. Nobody wants to immigrate here. Half of families - half - aren't even sending their children to Hogwarts. The only solution that seems to be available, however morally questionable it might be, is forced procreation!"

Shacklebolt's face was quite red now, but not in an angry way, almost as if he was embarrassed to be caught in such a situation. He sighed and pinched his nose. "Could you read me the terms of the proposed law, Weasley?"

"Every eligible witch and wizard in magical Great Britian from the ages of fourteen to forty-five shall be presented with a match by the Ministry, whom they shall marry within a fortnight or face wand-snapping and a fine of a hundred Galleons..."

Shacklebolt sighed. "Hand it over, I'll read the rest. Fourteen, you say?"

"Yes, sir," Percy said uncomfortably, "though I think--"

"Make it seventeen."

"Yes, sir."

Shacklebolt skimmed the rest. "Remove the part about dissolving marriages without any children...change the hundred-Galleon fine to a hundred thousand...'Ministry will accept any engagements announced within seventy-two hours of this law being put into place'...make it twenty-four...add something restricting matches to within a five-year age difference...I think that's enough."

"Very well, sir," said Percy, jotting this down. "I will bring your terms to the Wizemagot and have the list of matches for your revision within a week."

"That's all right, Weasley," he said, leaning back and watching as Percy left.

Merlin, he was never going to get re-elected at this rate.


	2. and so it went

They got their letters in mid-July, the same time hundreds of children around Great Britain were being notified of their acceptance into Hogwarts. Every member of the family over seventeen was gathered into the Burrow’s kitchen. Molly did the dishes morosely in the background. 

“They can’t do this,” Ginny burst out, breaking the grim silence. “Surely it’s - illegal, or _something._ ”

Arthur looked up at her. “Ginny, what you don’t seem to understand is that the Ministry can do anything they want.” 

“But you work at the Ministry!”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “Do you honestly think they’d take the opinion of someone at my level?”

“Percy, on the other hand,” she muttered darkly, and the table made a general murmur of agreement. 

“I’m sure he did everything he could,” Arthur told her placidly.

She snorted. “Well, it evidently wasn’t enough.” Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair, glaring.

“Don’t slouch,” Molly said from the kitchen, but even her reprimand was half-hearted. 

*

Halfway across the world, Hermione Granger was sitting at her kitchen table with eyes that, although dry, were red and swollen. 

  
“So this is it,” she said to her cat, who didn’t respond.

Because, well, he was a cat.

“I’m getting married,” she said to herself then. “To somebody I don’t even know.” She put her head in her arms. A few tears poured out of her eyes and she sat up, scrubbing at her face with her hand. “I am a mature adult, and I can handle myself.”

Although she lived in New York, she was still officially a citizen of Wizarding Britain, so she was still subject to any and all laws that might be put out. She wished, as she had done many times in the past, that she had switched her citizenship. 

But there was no point in crying now. She stood up, wiped her tears away, made tea, and waited for the owl to arrive.

*

Two weeks before, Harry Potter shoved the pamphlet in the face of Auror Welkins. “What the _hell_ is this?” he shouted.

“A pamphlet,” Welkins responded dryly.

“No _####,_ ” Harry told him sarcastically. “What’s _in_ the pamphlet?”

“Information detailing the new Involuntary Marriage act,” Welkins said.

Harry nodded emphatically. “I knew it.” He snatched the pamphlet back and walked away, leaving Welkins, at least, extremely confused about the whole interaction.

*

The owls came to the Burrow in a very orderly fashion. They swooped in through the window, placed down the letters in front of their intended recipient, and left, just like that.

“This is it,” Ron said, sitting next to Harry, unwittingly repeating what Hermione had said only a few minutes before.

Harry stared at his letter, unopened like the rest of them. “This is it,” he repeated, and Ginny squeezed his hand. They shared a secret smile, each hoping that they, no matter the odds, would end up together.

Bill and Fleur, who were there for emotional support, or so they said, hugged each other tightly, and Ron guessed that they were desperately thankful that they were already married. “Eet iz a new beginning,” Fleur pronounced. “None of uz are happy with thiz, but eet is how eet is.” Satisfied with her proclamation, she sat down, oblivious to or ignoring the glares. 

“Three,” Ginny said after a few minutes, and the table joined in her chant. 

“Two…” Harry chewed on his lip. Would he get Ginny? Probably not, he knew that, but they loved each other. He knew that, too. They’d do anything to be together.

Ron swallowed hard. Who would he be matched with? He ran through his mental list of girls he knew. None of them he was romantically interested in… No, there was only one person he’d ever loved that way, and she was long gone. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “One.” 

And they all opened their letters, together.

Always together.

*

_Dear Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley,_

_This letter is to inform you of your placement and match under the Involuntary Marriage Act of the year 2000 AD, previously initiated in the year 1239 AD. The Ministry will acknowledge any engagements announced within twenty-four hours of receiving this notice, and all involved parties will be removed from their respective matches._

_Once you have received this notice, you will be under compliance to the following rules:_

  1. _Within forty-eight hours of being informed of your match, you must make contact with said person._



  1. _Within two weeks of meeting a wedding date must be set._



  1. _All couples must be married at the Ministry by a Ministry Officiant. Officiants will comply with MOST but not ALL traditional wedding practices if desired._



  1. _All couples must be married by the 31st of December, 2000._



  1. _All couples will have three years to produce two magical children, and six years to produce four. If non-magical children are produced (as determined by a St. Mungo’s Healer), an extension will be provided as necessary._



  1. _All purebloods will be matched with a half-blood or muggleborn. There are no exceptions to this rule._



_6a. All half-bloods will be matched with a pureblood, muggleborn, or other half-blood. There are no exceptions to this rule._

_6b. All muggleborns will be matched with a half-blood or pure-blood. There are no exceptions to this rule._

  1. _Law is effect to all English, Scottish, and Irish-born magical persons regardless of country of current residence._



  1. _Marriage must be consummated within seventy-two hours of wedding date._



  1. _Couples with one or both parties at Hogwarts or otherwise completing their magical education will be subject to marriage but will be given a one-year extension on children._



  1. _All couples will be expected to send your marriage certificate to the Ministry by January 31st, 2001._



  1. _If assistance is needed for lodging or shelter, please apply for an appointment at the Housing Department of the Ministry._
  2. _No new matches will be provided._



13 _._ _Infidelity or any unwillingness to comply with any set rules will result in a fine of one hundred thousand Galleons and a snapped wand._

_Thank you very much for your cooperation._

**_Ronald Bilius Weasley_** _, birthdate 1 March 1980, pureblood,_ _is expected to marry:_

**_Hermione Jean Granger,_ ** _birthdate 19 September 1979, muggleborn._

_Best wishes,_

**_Kingsley Q. Shacklebolt,_ **

_Minister of Magic of Great Britain,_

_and_

**_Deborah Bloom,_ **

_Head of the Department of Family, Traditions, and Morale_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and kudos if you liked it!
> 
> Working on the next chapter, will hopefully be out by Wednesday 1/27.


	3. it continues

“Who’d you get?”

“Who’s your match?”

“Who’re you gonna marry?”

Those were the only things discernible in the cacophony that followed the opening of all of the letters.

“Lavender Brown,” Harry said glumly in response to Ginny’s inquiry. “You?”

“Dean Thomas,” she said thoughtfully, but nothing more. “Ron?”

He didn’t answer the question, staring at his letter disbelievingly.

“Ron?” she asked again, thinking that perhaps he had not heard her. “Who’d you get?”

“Hermione,” he said quietly.

“What?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Hermione,” he said, louder. “I got Hermione.”

And the table was deathly silent.

After a moment, Ginny laughed, weakly. “Funny, Ron. But really, who’d you get?”

“Hermione,” he repeated for the fourth time..

Her laughter died. “Are - are you serious?”

He only nodded, unable to speak.

Everyone started talking at once.

“You  _ can’t _ be - ”

“That’s not  _ funny - ” _

_ “Her?” _

“Quiet!” Harry shouted, and looked over at Ron when the table was quiet again. “Ron, can you repeat that?”

Ron groaned and put his head in his hands. “I got Hermione, okay? And no, I’m not happy about it. So please stop asking me.”

“But - what are the odds?” Ginny asked. “Surely out of all the witches in England - ”

“I don’t ####### know,” he said angrily. It was as if the Ministry was out to get him - and, well, considering that they were the Ministry, it wasn’t  _ un _ likely. “It’s not like I’m  _ Percy. _ ”

“Can’t you file for a new match?”

“Ginny,” Harry said impatiently, “did you even read the letter?”

“Yes,” she shot back, her face red, “because unlike some people I can  _ read _ !”

“What does that even  _ mean _ ?” Harry muttered, glaring at her. She glared right back, and they both huffed and turned away from each other.

“But seriously,” Ginny said eventually after a long silence, “I got Dean Thomas. Ron got Hermione. We’ve dated them before, so, you know, it can’t be a coincidence.”

“I wouldn’t doubt that the Ministry did that on purpose,” Bill said with a sigh. “That’s how they work. Put you with people they think you’re dating, and maybe you won’t protest as much.”

“But I haven’t even dated Dean since  _ fifth year, _ ” Ginny protested. “And Ron and Hermione...well,  _ everyone _ knew when  _ they  _ dumped each other. It was practically the event of the century.”

Ron bristled. “It was not a  _ dumping, _ ” he said in a dignified voice. “It was a parting of ways. By mutual agreement.”

“Ooh, big words,” Ginny teased.

Instead of responding, Ron chose to take a bite of his toast and look away, although he made sure to throw in a glare at his sister before he did so. She only smirked.

*

“I’ll miss you,” Ginny said, tracing the side of Harry’s cheek.

“I’ll miss you too,” he replied, his voice gruff and hoarse from built-up emotions. He coughed in an attempt to clear his throat, but it was in vain.

A single tear ran down her cheek, and made way for a flood of others. She laughed, and choked on the tears. “I didn’t think I’d be getting married - not for a long time - maybe not ever.”

“I know,” he said quietly. 

She touched the arm of his shirt. “Did you read the letter? Infidelity will result in a snapped wand…”

“...and a fine of a hundred thousand galleons,” he recited, finishing her sentence, barely thinking.

She half-smiled, still crying, and looked up at him through her lashes. “I might never get to be with you again.”

“Don’t say that,” he protested half-heartedly. “We can have dinners at the Burrow...you know, go out as friends…”

“No,” she interrupted, “I mean  _ be _ with you.”

His eyes widened as he got her meaning, and then he smirked and opened his arms.

She flew at him, her arms around his neck, her mouth against his, and he responded enthusiastically. Noses bumped together and teeth clacked with all the awkwardness of a first kiss, for they both knew it might have been their last. He moved away and kissed her neck, and she moaned, hands moving to the small of his back. They were desperately close together, hearts beating an identical rhythm.

They finally broke apart after a few long and precious minutes, gasping for air and smiling at each other. “C’mon,” she said, and he nodded breathlessly. And with that, she grabbed his arm and led him upstairs.

*

After she got the letter, Hermione was, quite simply, numb. But what could she do? She read over the letter two times, four, a thousand, and there still were no loopholes as far as she could tell.

Pointless.

Her only solace was the thought that maybe, just perhaps, Ron had forgiven her...or that he was equally as angry at her as she was at him. Either way, it would make it slightly easier - to hug and kiss and make up, or to fight until all her troubles were forgotten in a cloud of smoke and angry blood.

She stroked Crookshanks and fell asleep crying. It was, unfortunately, all that she could seem to do.

*

~~_ Ron _ ~~

~~_ Dearest Ron _ ~~

~~_ Dear Ron _ ~~

_ Ronald, _

~~_ I assume you read the letter _ ~~

~~_ We’ve been matched together _ ~~

_As per the Ministry’s newest law,_ _ ~~we’re going to get married~~ __we’ve been matched._ ~~ _This means we’re going to get married_~~ ~~of course he knows that~~. _Which is why I’m sending this owl. ~~To you~~._

_ See,  _ _~~we need to talk~~ _ _ we need to meet up  _ _~~and talk~~ ,  _ _~~because we’re supposed to.~~ To discuss. The wedding, and, well, you know. _

~~_ We’re also supposed to have children, but that’s something we can talk about later. _ ~~

_ I hope you and your family are well. _

_ I ~~hope you forgive me.~~ _

~~_ Love,  _ ~~

~~_ Your friend,  _ ~~

~~_ The girl you once said you loved and  _ God _ I hope it’s still true now, _ ~~

_ From, _

_ Hermione Granger _

_ * _

_ Hermione, _

_ Yes, I read the letter. _

_ How about Saturday at noon? Diagon Alley? We can get lunch. _

_ Ron Weasley _

_ * _

_ Ron, _

_ That’s fine. See you there. _

_ Hermione Granger _

_ * _

Ron sighed as Molly fussed over him for the upteenth time. “Mum, I’m  _ fine. _ ”

“But you’re going to meet  _ Hermione _ !” she crowed, brushing an invisible speck of dirt off his shoulder. 

“I’m well aware of that,” he replied, annoyed. “Mum, really, I don’t need to be bleached.”

She sighed. “I know, Ron, but this is a special day. I just want you to be ready. And after what happened between you two - ”

“####### shite,” he muttered under his breath. “ _ This _ again?”

“Language, Ronald,” she admonished, wagging her finger in his face. “Are you sure you’re all set?”

“Yes, Mum,” he said sarcastically.

“Then off you go,” she said, patting him on the arm, seemingly oblivious to his sarcasm. 

He rolled his eyes and sprinkled a pinch of Floo powder in the fireplace, stepping in and shouting out “Diagon Alley!”

And he was gone.

Molly sniffed and sat down heavily, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “My little boy, all grown up.”

“He’s twenty, Mum,” Ginny said absentmindedly from where she was sitting, sipping her tea. She had other things to think about.

Molly waved her hand and moved to start on dinner. “Oh, hush, Ginerva.”

Ginny simply rolled her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment and kudos if you liked it. 
> 
> I'm about to be hit with a boatload of personal stuff, so the next chapter might be a while. See you then!


	4. go

Ron usually loved Diagon Alley. He went there often in between missions; he’d stop to get a butterbeer or browse through the aisles of Flourish & Botts, maybe pause at George’s joke shop and help him out a bit; then he’d head on his way feeling very satisfied with himself and the world.

However, today he was heading to the Alley for a completely different reason, and one that he didn’t like in the least.

He hadn’t talked to Hermione for over a year, and their initial parting had been messy to say the least. So now, as he strode towards the Leaky Cauldron, he determined that 1) he was not looking forward to their meeting at all, and 2) he rather disliked Diagon Alley at the moment, with its mocking storefronts and giggling schoolgirls in groups of five and ten. He scowled and pulled up the collar of his coat as an icy wind blew bitterly through the Alley. 

*

**_Ginerva Molly Weasley_** _, birthdate 11 August 1981, pureblood,_ _is expected to marry:_

**_Dean Henry Thomas,_ ** _ birthdate 7 January 1980, muggleborn. _

_ * _

**_Harry James Potter_** _, birthdate 31 July 1980, half-blood,_ _is expected to marry:_

**_Lavender Rose Brown,_ ** _ birthdate 18 February 1980, pureblood. _

_ * _

When he reached the cafe, Ron snagged a corner table and sat down in the chair against the wall, so he could see the whole restaurant without having to move.

A waitress caught sight of him and hurried over, smiling widely. “What can I get for you, sir?”

“Uh - ” He hesitated. “Actually, I'm waiting for someone, if that's okay with you.”

Her smile never faltered. “Of course! Call when you need us.” And she walked away.

He glanced down at the menu she'd left, picked it up, and looked through it uninterestedly. He was feeling nauseous, and even the thought of food made him want to vomit, unusual for him.

He sighed, put the menu down, and tapped his foot impatiently against the ground. When would the bloody woman  _ get  _ there?

After about fifteen minutes, he briefly considered just leaving. But that'd be rude, his mother would be upset, and after all he hadn't seen Hermione since….

Well, since they'd broken up.

He winced even at the memory. As his sister had said, it had practically been the event of the century….

_ They were sitting under a tree in the Burrow’s orchard, when it happened. So close that they were practically on top of each other, although their physical closeness was not privy to what they were each thinking. _

“Why _ can’t he just - be less  _ insufferable _?” Hermione thought angrily to herself, while Ron was pondering on how utterly self-important she was. Tensions were building, in those first days after the war, and they had all lost something. George had lost a brother. Molly and Arthur had lost a son. Hermione had lost her parents, unable to be located after she had put them in Australia with new names and new memories.  _

_ And Ron? _

_ Ron had lost a piece of himself. _

_ “Hermione,” he said out loud, and was startled by the sound of his own voice. “Hermione, we need to talk.” _

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sharp  _ ding _ of a bell ringing as the door opened. A woman with hair pulled back into a messy, oversized brown bun burst in, clothes unruly and carrying a large purse, things and papers stuffed into it at all angles. She looked around the restaurant, and as she caught his eyes for a split second Ron knew it was Hermione.

*

“Ginny!” cried Dean, open arms. She stayed where she was, and he awkwardly closed them.

She stuck out a hand. “Dean.”

“It….it’s been a while,” he said uncomfortably. 

“Hasn’t it?” she asked, coming out ruder than she’d intended. “Your sixth year, I believe?”

“Your fifth?” He nodded. “That - well, I’d like to apologize. I was rather an arrogant bloke, back then.”

She found herself instantly warming up to him. “Oh, you weren’t that bad.”

He shook his head. “No, really, I was. Always helping you over things. I had the notion that girls were - sort of delicate creatures, that needed to be assisted.”

She laughed shortly. “Well, I hope I’ve proven you wrong.”

“Have you ever!” He ran his hand through his thick, tightly coiled hair. “Blimey, your playing on the Harpies….well, even before that. You were always….a fighter.”

“Was I?” She found herself smiling at him, and quickly wiped it off her face, embarrassed.

Seeing her smile go, Dean’s own grin faltered. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for about five minutes, before Ginny scowled.

“Look, Dean. This isn’t going to work if we aren’t honest with each other.”

“I fully agree,” he announced, grinning at her again. “Ginny, I’m not in love with you, and I don’t believe I ever will be.”

“Dean, I’m not in love with you either,” she said, relieved, and grinning at him back. 

“So that’s settled.”

She nodded. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he said. 

*

When Hermione caught sight of Ron Weasley for the first time in over a year, her first reaction was to be taken aback by his eyes. Merlin, she had forgotten how wonderful his eyes were. So blue….

Her second reaction, once the first had passed, was burning hot anger. How  _ dare _ he just - just sit there, a stupid smile on his face, as if nothing had happened a year, three months, and seventeen days ago?

But she was an adult. She was twenty-one years old. She would not act like a child, like  _ him. _

She plastered a smile on her face that was internally a scoff and went to sit down across from him, all the while trying her very hardest not to cry.

How dare he.

*

When Harry met Lavender, at her and Parvati’s boutique, he was surprised to be treated with a cold shoulder.

“Look, okay, why are you mad at me?” he asked after about an hour of being treated like he was nothing but an underfoot bother.

She turned to him and sniffed angrily. “Harry, I haven't seen you in two years and now we're supposed to get married. Excuse  _ me  _ for acting a little bit cold.” 

Parvati huffed in agreement.

Harry sighed. “I'm sorry, but there's nothing  _ I  _ can do about it. If it makes you feel better, I don't particularly want to marry you either.” 

As soon as she rounded on him, he knew he had said the wrong thing. “ _ Why _ on Earth would that make me feel better?”

Harry winced. He was in for a long evening.

*

Their conversation went slightly worse than expected.

Only slightly.

It started how Ron had assumed it would - faux-polite formalities. Then came a few scattered glares. After that, it escalated into full-on arguing, and ended with her barely refraining from slapping him, a pleading “oh, why did I  _ ever _ think you'd changed - ” from one or both of them, and Hermione rushing out the door with a “I should’ve never come all the way from New York!”

They hadn't ended up ordering anything, but he generously tipped the waitress for her trouble, pulled on his coat, and walked outside, only barely catching a glimpse of brown hair, out of its bun and flying awry, running down the street.

He sighed and apparated home. What had he expected?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at writing, God


	5. on and on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Mental health has been terrible, and I was in in-patient for a couple weeks. 
> 
> I have a playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/28ipqYiUgLvKTLB6ziGG6s?si=ma9MyqWHT7-eJzjlJo3Apw
> 
> Enjoy!

Molly wanted big weddings. Ginny insisted that it would be easier for everyone if it was done quietly and quickly at the Ministry by a Ministry officiant. George argued that everyone at the Ministry were bastards and as such they should get all weddings performed privately by some chaplain or other. Arthur reminded him that not everyone at the Ministry was - “I’d prefer not to say that word”. George, who was rather in a bad mood, retorted that in fact he believed they were.

Ron sat at the kitchen table and watched the house burn down.

*

Harry rarely stopped by the Burrow, these days. Not that he didn’t love everyone there, but what with dealing with Lavender, and Molly’s begging for official weddings, and the fact that Ginny was there….

Well, it wasn’t his favorite place to be in the world, right now.

He was walking to Lavender’s house, an attempt at a second meeting and perhaps a reconciliation. Their first meeting, well, had not gone great, and ended with him storming off and her crying.

Briefly he wondered how Ron’s meeting with Hermione had gone. His last letter to Hermione, nearly six months ago, had gone unanswered, so he had had no updates on how she was doing for a while. He couldn’t imagine it had gone well, not with how they had left off, but he hoped it had gone decently, at least.

They had probably handled it fine, he thought. They were both mature adults and could deal with seeing a long-lost love.

With that comforting thought, he continued walking down the street to Lavender’s.

*

“Hermione, we need to talk.”

Instantly the air was cold and Hermione shivered, shifting away from him almost subconsciously. “What?” she said harshly.

Ron sighed heavily, sadly. “This….this isn’t working out, Hermione.”

*

Two weeks drifted by, and by the end of them Ron had not spoken to Hermione once, and according to Harry (who she still kept in cold contact with) she didn’t much seem to want to.

Ron left her alone.

They had to set a wedding date, and their time was almost up. So he recruited the kindest (and, coincidentally, best at convincing) person he knew - his sister Ginny.

He really, really hoped his plan would work.

*

“So,” Ginny said, sliding into the seat across from Hermione with a large smile that was hard not to give into. “My dear brother and yourself are set to get married.”

Hermione blinked, momentarily speechless. “How….how did you find me?”

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes innocently. “Find you? Hermione, I happened upon you. I did not find you.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned away. “Uh-huh.”

Ginny glanced down at the table and saw what Hermione was drinking. With a tsk, she snatched it away. “That’s not good for you. What is it, two in the afternoon?”

“Three,” Hermione muttered, and tried to grab it back. “It’s only firewhiskey.”

Ginny shook her head, and suddenly she was serious again. “Hermione, I missed you. Really.”

Hermione shut her eyes, then opened one. Ginny was still smiling.

“Why are you looking at me through one eye?” Ginny asked.

Hermione hastily opened her other eye and then glared. “Just - just leave, Ginny. I don’t want you here.”

This seemed to hurt Ginny more than she let on, but she kept her smile, though it wavered a bit. “Hermione, do you want to have your wand broken?”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” argued Hermione weakly.

“I didn’t think so,” said Ginny cheerfully, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, I’ll take you to see my brother, and - ”

Hermione wrenched away. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” Ron had told her that they’d ended on rather bad terms, but nobody except those involved knew exactly what had happened.

“You heard what I said,” said Hermione, and refused to say anything more. She managed to get her drink back from Ginny, who let her hands fall to her sides as she attempted (and largely failed) to think of a plan.

“Okay,” she said finally. “You know, I don’t really want to get married either. Not at all, in fact. Do you see me risking wand-snapping and a fine of more than I can afford? No. Because I’m acting like an adult. And, quite frankly, you’re not. You’re acting like a fifteen-year-old.”

This was enough for Hermione to turn around, at least, and she glared at Ginny over the top of her glass.

“Really, my brother is acting more mature than you are,” Ginny went on. “Which is saying something. He usually - well, I assume you don’t know about how Lavender came back in town and tried to - ”

“Ginny,” Hermione interrupted in a dangerously calm voice, “I - don’t - care. If you don’t have anything useful to say, get out of here.”

Ginny didn’t flinch. “I suppose I’ll have to bring in my backup. Fleur, get in here.”

The door opened and Fleur walked in, arms crossed. “What eez this I hear?”

Ginny looked at her, amused. “Hermione refuses to talk to Ron. Says she’d rather get her wand snapped.”

“I did not say that,” Hermione protested, but Ginny held up a hand to shush her. 

“Fleur, my dear sister-in-law….” She trailed off.

Fleur smiled. “Zay no more.”

*

Although she promised to, she didn’t end up talking to Ron for a while. Finally Ginny showed up at her door and dragged her to the Burrow, where she sat awkwardly at the kitchen table until someone noticed her.

Molly bustled in with a load of laundry and caught sight of her as she set it down. “Oh, Hermione, dear!” She swept her up in a hug. “It’s been so long!”

I’m surprised she hasn’t brought up Ron yet, thought Hermione wryly, but before she could finish the thought Molly said, releasing her from the hug, “Have you talked to Ron yet?”

Hermione inwardly groaned. “No, Mrs. Weasley, I - ”

“Oh, call me Molly!” Molly cried. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times….” She tsked and picked up her laundry again.

Hermione, who was beginning to feel quite sick from Molly’s overbearingness, was about to just give up and leave. “Actually, uh, Molly, I was here to see Ron.” She offered an awkward half-smile, and Molly gasped.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ll go get him - ”

“No!” Hermione cried, and then when Molly looked at her strangely, said hastily, “I think it’d be better if I went to see him myself.”

“You’re right,” said Molly thoughtfully. “He’d appreciate seeing you. You’re all he’s been talking about, you know….”

Hermione blushed in spite of herself. “I’ll just - ”

“He’s likely upstairs,” said Molly. “That’s where he’s spending all his time nowadays, sulking about - ”

Luckily or not, just then the door to the kitchen opened to reveal Ron, staring down at something he was holding. “Mum, look at this - it’s Harry.” He held out the chocolate frog card to his mother, who took it. 

“Why, so it is, dear,” said Molly, gazing down at the card. “Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Defeated Tom Riddle, known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, with the help of Ron Weasley and Hermione Gragner,” she read aloud.

Ron snorted. “I can’t believe they spelled her name wrong. She’d probably throw a fit - ” Just then, he caught sight of Hermione and his mouth dropped open in a little O.

There was a silence. 

“Hermione?” he finally said.

Her mouth quirked up in a little half-smile. “I’m not throwing a fit, am I?”

“No,” he said breathlessly, “I suppose you’re not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “You - you came back.”

“I did,” said Hermione.

“Well,” Molly announced loudly, “I’ll leave you two alone.” She hustled out of the kitchen, leaving her laundry behind.

Ron glared after her. “Just - ignore her. She’s like that sometimes.” 

Hermione almost laughed. “I know.”

They lapsed into another silence, trying to avoid looking at each other. 

“We’ve got to set a wedding date,” said Hermione finally, “and our deadline is tomorrow.”

“I know,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. It seemed to be a nervous habit. “So - ”

“So we’d better do that,” finished Hermione awkwardly. She gestured to the seat across from her. “Sit down?”

“Oh,” Ron said, starting. “Yes.” He sat down.

There was another silence. Hermione stared down at her hands.

“How about - next weekend? Saturday morning?” he said abruptly, looking directly at her.

“Oh,” she said. “I - sure. Yes.”

“Will that work with your schedule?” he asked, business-like.

“Yes.”

“Then it’s settled,” he said, and she nodded weakly.

They were getting married.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be the first person to admit that this fic is, simply, not that good. But I'm having a fun time writing it, and that's all that matters. 
> 
> With that said, thanks so much to my readers. I love you guys.
> 
> *
> 
> follow me on tumblr @an-elysian-tree


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